I wasn’t going to post today. I’ve got lots of stuff I need to do and posting wasn’t high on my to-do list. But moving the images from my camera to storage was. And I promised myself I wasn’t going to look at them. Because I don’t have time, you know.
But I did. It was raining one morning this week and I was shooting birds (not literally) through the window. This one made me laugh out loud. You never know what you’ve got until you look at them on a bigger screen.
Youngster: Dad! Hey Dad! I’m hungry!Youngster: Huh. Dad’s not listening.Youngster: DAD! I’m HUNGRY!Youngster: Well what the heck.Dad?Dad: Darn! Now there are TWO of them bugging me!Dad: Geeze. Where’s these kids’ mother? I need reinforcement here.Dad: These kids need to find their own supper. They’re plenty old enough. Dad out.Youngster: Dad? Where’d you go, dad?Youngster: Hey dad! I’m still HUNGRY!Youngster: Guess I’ll get my own darn jelly. Can’t depend on anybody these days.
A few days ago, on a beautiful blue sky, puffy white cloud afternoon, a photography friend and I went over to Fennville Michigan to see the poppy field. If you’re not from around here, and maybe even if you are, you might ask what poppy field?
There’s a special place in a tiny little town over on the west side of the state. It’s four acres of red poppies and blue bachelor buttons. Maybe that’s hard to image, so let me share a few of the images I took over the course of a couple magical hours.
We arrived around 5 p.m. and the light on the flowers was so beautiful. It was hard to capture the entire enormity of it.
As we stood, mesmerized, near the opening to the field I listened as more people arrived.
Each person stopped abruptly and then sighed or gasped. Voices lowered in respect and awe.
The awe is because the field is over the top beautiful. The respect came from the reason the field was planted in the first place. It was originally dedicated to a young man who served tours in Afghanistan, came home with PTSD, and took his own life.
The field is also dedicated to a young 19 year old woman who lost her battle to a rare form of cancer.
I looked up both stories after taking many photos of beautiful poppies up close and in masses. We were waiting for the sun to lower, hoping for a pretty sunset.
Meanwhile we wandered all the way around the field, looking for different angles, different colors.
Different shapes.
A lot of the time I wasn’t shooting. I was just walking and thinking about the young people this town lost, the heartbreak that planted these beautiful flowers.
I don’t know how many pictures of poppies I can cram into one blog post. I want you to see them all. But I took 309 images, and that’s a bit much. I think I edited 70 some, still too many.
I’ll just try to show you a representative few and hope that you can imagine the feeling.
By 9 p.m. or so the sun was lowering. The white puffy clouds were long gone but there were still interesting shapes in the sky. It wasn’t a big impressive sunset but when you looked through a camera lens it was pretty amazing.
I don’t think we could get a more perfect day to see this sweet field.
There’s a very narrow window to see the poppies. They begin to bloom around the middle of June and they’re done by the 4th of July. I feel very lucky that we got to see them at all.
And I hope you enjoyed seeing a tiny bit of a magical place. Think a bit about the two young people too, I think their families would appreciate knowing they are not lost in all the noise of today.
In a peaceful poppy field in a tiny town in rural Michigan their memories are strong. Even among those of us that never met them.
A week ago today I took three people to Kensington to feed the birds. They had never done that before but they’d heard about it and wanted to have the experience.
Hey, toss that peanut over here!
They had to drive almost 2 hours but they thought it was worth it. I do too. Though we arrived early in the morning, when the birds are most likely to be hungry, we weren’t inundated with begging feathered ones. But we had our fair share.
It rained all night and I’m not looking my best, but I sure am hungry!
Mostly it was the woodpeckers, in different varieties that were interested in us. Though an occasional red-winged blackbird stopped by.
I’m really interested in that peanut you have, could you toss it here?
And the bluejays were always nearby.
I’m faster than any darn woodpecker, just watch me!
In fact this visit turned into a ‘toss a peanut’ experience. The red-bellied and the red-headed woodpeckers and of course the bluejays are all very talented at plucking a tossed peanut out of the sky.
We spent much of our walk through the woods tossing peanuts into the air where they were eagerly snatched by a winged one.
Got it!
And of course we walked out onto the boardwalk to check on the blue heron rookery.
Ms. Red-winged was startled as we walked by.
The heron babies are now teenagers, testing their wings and making a great deal of noise whenever an adult ventures by. Just in case there might be breakfast arriving.
I can flap my wings faster than you. Oh will you two just settle down? I’m trying to nap here.
All in all, though we weren’t swarmed by birds I think everybody had a great time and I hope they come back for another adventure!
Last week a storm on the sun was predicted to send some major northern lights our way. A storm big enough to be seen even down here in southeast Michigan. But since there’s so much light down here, what with cities and towns all over, a friend and I decided we’d drive the three hours up to the tip of Michigan’s thumb and try our luck.
A misty evening looking out over Lake Huron.
When we arrived there was a kind of mist hanging over the lake. It was several hours until sunset, but we didn’t mind hanging out on the beach and waiting.
Waiting.
Or photograph the swans hanging out just up the beach.
Relaxing in the evening light.
But finally the sun began to set and we became hopeful.
Bye bye sun, sleep tight.
Maybe the night would be the night we’d dreamed of. We were ready.
As the sky darkened we could see two planets, Venus and Jupiter. They were the perfect “stars” to practice our camera focus as we waited for the light show to start.
The first ‘stars’ to appear.
We waited. We noticed clouds in a bank along the horizon and some in the sky. But aurora would look spectacular among the clouds. So we waited some more and practiced focusing on more stars.
Thousands of stars, and there would be more to see if it were truly dark.
As time passed the bank of clouds rolled across the lake toward us and we had to change our focus and practice on the stars directly above us where the sky was still clear.
Before the clouds covered it all up.
But by midnight the sky was completely clouded over and the light storm hadn’t yet hit earth. We decided to pack it up and head home. No amazing aurora. No milky way.
A pretty little beach at a roadside park.
Were we disappointed? Or course. But we had hours on the beach, little waves rolling up on the sand, and stars overhead. Sometimes you don’t get what you want, but you always get what you need when you head out into the night to photograph the sky.
Sunday afternoon I drove about an hour to attend another community’s band concert. They were celebrating the 250th anniversary of our country too, and I was curious what they would play.
I’ve never been to one of their concerts, but many years ago our community band and theirs planned a joint concert in their town. We anticipated having another joint concert the next year at our high school.
I can’t remember if it was a blizzard or an electrical outage, it very well could have been both, but the school was closed the day of our performance and we never did find another date to make that concert up. I’ve always felt sad about that, both bands had prepared music that we didn’t get to play.
Sunday’s program began with a subset of the band, doing jazz numbers, complete with a singer, and there was also a drum and fife band that marched in and played several pieces. The drum and fife players were aged 12-18. It felt good to see young people involved with something so historical. There is hope for our country!
The Community Band was wonderful. It is larger than our band, there were 75 people listed in the program, including twelve clarinets! They completely fill the stage and their sound fills the hall. They were awesome and I’m so glad I went.
Music in the spring and summer is so hopeful. I feel better just attending, even though I didn’t know a single soul in the audience or on the stage. I can say with certainty that everyone was smiling as they left Sunday’s concert. I plan to go to another concert this one located closer to home and outside, this week. You’ll probably hear about that one too. 🙂
You can’t beat community music. Look around, find some local music. I encourage you to take some time and attend something in your town. You’ll be supporting your neighbors and you, too, will walk away with a smile.
Every summer we are lucky enough to have orioles visit our feeder. They never stay long enough, many adults leave sometime in mid to late August which seems too early.
This lady serves gormet grape jelly!
The juveniles stick around a couple more weeks, eating the jelly as fast as they can.
What do you mean I have to feed myself?
Even though the youngsters are pretty, I always miss the adults.
You’d think the lady would put a roof over our lunch!
But last year and this year, after quite a long break without seeing any adults, I’ve had adult males and on occassion an adult female stop by the feeder in late August!
You shut up! No YOU shut up!
I’m always excited when, long after I think they’re gone, they show up for a few more days.
I need to grab a snack before those two come back!
I guess they’re fueling up for their trip south to Florida, or Central America. That seems like such a long flight I can’t imagine.
I thought I’d check out the finch food. Not as good as jelly.
And it seems even harder to imagine the youngsters being successful at the trip on their own. I wonder if families reunite once everybody is down there or if once they leave they’re leaving their family forever.
You’re not my mom!
I know they’re gearing up to leave me. But I bought a big jar of jelly this week, hoping they’re around long enough to finish it all.
Change Is Hard 